Always forgiven
by Brothers-against-the-world
Summary: Deans always known his brother was a good person, but when things get out of control, could Sam ever forgive him? not wincest, Oneshot, Teen!chester
1. Chapter 1

Title : **Always forgiven**

Genre: Teen!Dean and Teen! sam ( Dean is 18, sam is 14) Oneshot.

Disclaimer : sadly, I do not own any characters in this fic.

Warning : There are a couple uses of language, but only 2 or 3 i think. You have been warned!

Note : It changes POV Quite alot, so just go with it, I think it all makes sense!

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><p>"SAM!"<p>

_Ah crap. _Sam knew his brother well enough that when Dean used the '_you better get your ass in here right now before I tear your head off' _tone, you didn't ignore it. They had only been in the most recent (nearly derelict) small building that their father dared to call a house for under an hour, and dean was already pissed at something. With their father out doing some supply shopping, it was him that would have to deal with dean.

Making his way out of the living room and up the stairs, he pushed open the room to his and Deans shared bedroom. It wasn't exactly luxurious, with one medium sized dresser in between the two small and unstable looking wooden beds on either side of the room, with a small gap between them and the side walls.

As he stepped in, he saw Dean striding across the room towards him, anger turning his face a colour close to that of a tomato.

"Where the _hell_ did you hide it Sam?" Dean yelled, now standing only a couple feet from his brother. Sam had seen dean angry before, and it had even gotten close to violence a couple times, but this . . . this was different. Sam backed up against the wall of their room, dean following him, closing him in. Dean was passed pissed now, and Sam had no idea why.

"What the hell dean!" Sam tried to inch away from his brother, but Dean only backed him into the far corner of the room.

"My Knife Sam! The one dad gave me!"

Now Sam understood some of the rage. The knife in question was given to Dean by their father on Deans 13th birthday, and was one of his most prised possessions. He has used it in his first proper hunt, and it had got them out of countless sticky situations since then.

"What? I don't know where it is Dean. It must be somewhere in our duffel." Pushing at Dean's chest Sam tried to get some space between them, but the only effect it had was to get a short shove from dean, pushing him back up against the corner of the room.

"Sam it's not in there, I knew you took it you fucking liar, give it back!"

Sam physically recoiled at that. Dean's voice had gone so loud and bitter that Sam was wondering how on earth Dean was managing it.

"Dean, get off. I don't know where our knife is, you probably just didn't look for it hard enough. Your being paranoid." He paused for a breath, and then interrupted Dean as he began to retaliate. "Besides, who gives a crap about your pathetic little knife? It's not anything special."

The minute it came out of Sam's mouth, he knew it was a mistake. Dean had looked after that knife like a baby. He cleaned it religiously and was constantly checking it was ok. Even so, Sam knew there was another reason this knife was so special to Dean. The knife was one of the first birthday presents John had given Dean that had not been stolen from some cheap corner store, or found at the last minute. It wasn't just a knife to Dean, it was stone hard evidence that john Winchester cared about him.

Sam knew the punch was coming before it hit him. Dean barely held back, hitting him square in the jaw with enough force that made his head hit the hard plaster of the bedroom wall with a sickening crack.

Opening his eyes he looked into Deans. What he was not expecting is what he would see there. Dean had always be the kind of person to take out their anger, then move on quickly afterwards. Sam expected some irritation, or even a shadow of a heated glare, but not this. All Sam saw when he looked into Deans eyes was hate, and it hurt like a knife to his chest to know it was directed at him.

Pushing hard against Dean's chest, he was surprised when his brother moved backwards allowing him enough room to run for the still open door to their bedroom. He didn't want Dean to see the tears gathering in his eyes.

His jaw throbbing and a slight warm trickle going down the back of his head, Sam bolted down the stairs and out the front door. He didn't know where he should go, but he knew he couldn't face his brother after the disgusting hurtful things he had just said to Dean. His brothers anger had upset him, but he was pretty sure he deserved it.

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><p>The pain in his head was quickly increasing as he jogged into the trees surrounding their current home, but he knew he deserved it. He had hurt Dean, and he was willing to take as many punches as it took to try and make Dean feel better. That's assuming that Dean ever wanted to see him again.<p>

As the darkness grew around him and he got further and further into the dense forest, he lost sense of time. It could have been hours or minutes since he entered the forest, but the growing exhaustion Sam felt and the throbbing pain in his head and Jaw finally won out. He sat down at the base of the nearest tree and fell into a peaceful and welcome oblivion.

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><p>Dean stood stunned. He couldn't believe he had just hit his little brother. His <em>Sammy. <em>

Watching as the kid opened his eyes, dean couldn't move. He felt Sam push at his chest, and managed to step back to let him go. He watched as he ran out of the room, and seconds later he heard the door slam shut. He had seen the shimmer of unshed tears in Sams eyes.

It was like something had taken over dean, making him lash out at Sam. The comments he had made about Deans beloved knife pissed him off to no end, but he never thought he could hit Sam, The one person he has always protected.

As Dean Stood rooted to the spot, he could only replay those few seconds when his fist connected with Sams jaw, sending the boy backwards. The worst part was the noise his head made when it came into contact with the wall.

_Oh god. I'm so sorry Sammy! _Dean thought, repulsed by his actions. He knew that his emotions where getting away with him the minute they had started arguing. In the last few weeks, Dean had started to get recurring nightmares, in which his little brother and father were dying right in front of him, but he didn't have anything to save them. He would watch as the werewolf attacked them, but he had no weapon. By the time he got to them they always would have bled out.

Because of this, Dean was sleep deprived and maybe Sam was right, a little paranoid. He constantly feared the nightmare becoming reality, so always made sure he had his knife on his person or close to him to use if anything happened. With the Winchesters luck, Dean wanted to take every precaution.

_God, I'm a horrible big brother. Sammy deserves someone better than me..._

Dean sat down on the bed closest to the door, Thinking Sam deserved some time away from him.

Just as Dean was considering ways of making it up to Sam, he heard the front door open.

"Sammy! Is that you?" He called out, desperately hoping he was right.

"Dean?"

He could immediately tell that the low pitch husky voice belonged to his father, returned from the food shopping trip.

Walking at a quick pace out of the bedroom and down the stairs, he found his father unpacking several brown paper bags in the tiny kitchen-diner.

"Where's Sam? I thought I would make us some dinner." John said, glancing up from the food. Seeing the distant look in Dean's eyes, his thoughts jumped straight to the worst possible reason. Something must be wrong with Sam.

"Dean? What's wrong? Is Sam ok?" abandoning all efforts with the groceries, john strode over to his eldest, shaking Deans shoulders. "Dean! What happened?"

"I ... uh...Sam and me... we had a fight." Dean said, not able to meet his father's eyes. He knew what John would say, how Dean was responsible for Sam when he wasn't there, and he expected more of him.

"Great Dean, Just Great. You know how he gets; all those damn teen hormones. Try and be at least a little tolerant. You should remember what you where like at that age!" John paused, looking at Dean. "Now, be a man about it and go and get Sam from your room and apologise. Look, I know Sam must have said something to you, but you're the oldest Dean. Man up."

Dean knew he was going to have to tell his father. It would mean a hell of an arse-kicking later, but he needed to know.

"Yeah. Well, I couldn't find my knife and Sam was the only one around. I figured he must have taken it. But... it got out of hand. He started yelling at me, I just lost it Dad." _Now or never _dean thought. "I... I hit Sam. Pretty hard I think."

The silence coming from the eldest Winchester was painful enough. He knew that his father, and in many ways his hero was disappointed and angry at him. The yelling that followed only made Dean Feel a hell of a lot worse. Not that he didn't think he deserved every second of it.

"You... how could you? I know you argue with him, but Jesus, the kid doesn't deserve that!" John ran his calloused hand through his short dark hair.

"Dean, where is he? I think he's the one you need to talk to."

"Well, after... the argument, he kind of ran out. I figured he'd be back soon enough, but that was..." Dean glanced at the small clock on the kitchen counter and looking out the window at the nearly pitch black forest surrounding the house. "Dad, that was nearly an hour ago! It's freezing out there, and with Sammy's luck... oh god, what if something's happened to him!"

Dean then remembered the horrible thump his brother's head had made against the wall after he had hit him.

"His head. He hit his head against the wall. Fuck, what if he's got a concussion Dad! He shouldn't be on his own..."

"Dean, calm down. Go upstairs and get the insulating blanket from my room. I'll get the first aid kit and our coats. We _will _find him Dean."

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><p>After at least an hour of searching, John and Dean were still empty handed. Deep into the woodland, they had been calling Sams name non-stop until both men's voices where beginning to go hoarse.<p>

Just as Dean was beginning to feel like he was losing his mind, he swung his torch to the base of a large tree only 15 feet in front of him, seeing a small lump resting against it. He recognised it instantly.

"SAMMY!"

John turned to where Dean was now sprinting, following his son as fast as he could. As Dean reached the mound that was indeed his brother, He gasped.

Sams Face was a Deathly white colour, his eyes closed and unmoving. He reached out, searching his brother's neck for a pulse, just any sign of life so that Dean could breathe again.

After an agonising few seconds, he felt the steady but weak drum under his fingers, and he struggled to hold back tears of relief.

John moved in beside Dean, Reaching into his back pack and pulling out the shiny blanket that was supposed to conserve body heat. He wrapped it tightly around Sam, whilst still trying to check for any injuries. He found none other than a badly bruised jaw line and cheek, as well as a lump the size of a golf ball on the back of Sams head.

"We need to get him out Dean. I can look him over properly back at the house, but we can't risk him staying out here any longer."

Dean agreed with his father, feeling the urgency to get Sam back to the safety of their current home. As John reached down to pick Sam up, Dean gently moved his father's hands away.

"I did this. It's my fault he's here; I have to be the one to get him out."

John paused for a second before allowing his eldest son to pick up Sam, adjusting him in his arms before they began the long walk back. He had a feeling this would take some time to get over for both his sons, but if he knew anything about the relationship between the boys there would be no bad feelings between them.

After they were nearly back to the small house, Sam began to stir.

"Dean..." Sam's broken whisper nearly broke Dean's heart.

"Shhh buddy, I'm here. You're ok." Trying to comfort his little brother, Dean ran his fingers through the long hair on the top of his brother's head, remembering this used to soothe him when he had bad dreams as a small boy.

"Did...n't... steal...so..orry..."

"Don't worry Sam, I believe you. Just big brother being an idiot, as usual." Dean was only showing a fraction of the guilt he felt. He knew that Sam would be feeling hurt, their father having promised to let Sam finish up the term in the last town. That was of course before another hunt came up, and John couldn't care less about school then. At times like that, it almost seemed like john didn't care much about Sam either.

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><p>Within another 15 minutes, John and Dean had gotten Sam laid down on his back on the sofa, the thermal blanket and 2 thick quilts tucked around him. They had taken off his sweat shirt, t-shirt and jeans that had gotten damp in the cold, leaving him only in his boxers.<p>

John the proceeded an intense medical evaluation, checking to see if Sam had any other injuries, more detailed than the emergency check in the woods.

Finding it all clear, he then looked at the lump on the back of Sams head, Inhaling in sympathy when he saw the small river of dried blood and what he could now see to be a large bruised area surrounding the bump he noticed before. Even so, he thought Sam may only have sustained a minor concussion from his run in with the wall. No trip to hospital, but waking him up every few hours to take some Tylenol for precaution.

Dean Watched John as he looked over Sam, holding his little brothers cold hand and rubbing gentle circles on the back of it.

As John left the room to get some Tylenol and water, Sams eyelashes started to flutter. After a few seconds of Sam struggling to stay awake, he opened his eyes to half mast. Dean leaned closer into his brother, brushing the bangs of his forehead.

" Hey there Sammy. Gave us quite a scare there!" Dean was joking, aiming to try and asses if his brother was mad at him. He wouldn't blame him at all if he was.

"Oh... Sorry." Sam looked genuinely confused by what Dean had said, almost as if he hadn't expected them to worry. "Uhh, what happened? Last I remember, I was in the woods."

"Yeah, great idea champ. Me and Dad went looking for you. Must have been about 2 hours after you left when we found you."

Dean looked down at Sam, seeing so obviously in the kid's eyes how sorry he was. Sorry for making them worry, sorry for staying out, even if he had no control over his consciousness at that stage. You see, Sam's eyes had always given away whatever he was feeling. After 14 years with him, Dean always knew, almost by instinct how Sam felt, and most of the time what he had to do to make him feel better.

This was just one of those times. Sam needed an apology, to know his brother didn't want to hurt him. He deserved one too.

"Look Sam, I'm sorry. Sorry I started fighting with you; sorry I got so angry, sorry that I hit you." Dean paused trying to collect himself. "God, I'm so sorry I hit you. I swear I didn't mean it, I just lost it Sammy..."

Sam looked up at Dean with those huge hazel eyes of his, peering out from under his hair. And in that moment, Dean knew that he was forgiven. He knew that when it came to Sam, he would always be forgiven.

" It's ok Dean. I'm sorry about what I said about your knife, I know how much it meant to you, I was just angry."

Dean couldn't say he was surprised by this. Even though he had been the one to punch Sam, his brother was feeling guilty. _That's just who Sam is _dean thought. Sam was always looking to take the blame off of others, make them feel better. No, Dean wasn't surprised, but he still couldn't hold back the feeling of pride growing in his chest, and the distinct knowledge of how lucky he was to have such a great little brother.

"I think we both got a little angry Sammy. We good?"

"Yeah Dean, We're good."

The End.

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><p>There you go! My first Fic, so i'm feeling more than anxious about how you guys like it, So please review!<p>

thanks for reading!

Alex

xx


	2. Epilogue

It had been nearly a week since Sam and Deans argument, and the brothers were still as close as ever. Sam had mostly recovered from his head injury, but Dean and john were still keeping an eye on their youngest.

" Dean. How long have you had that shirt on? Two days? Three?" John was looking at Dean across the small table in the house, seeing the small food stains and larger wrinkles on his son's shirt.

Sam snickered at this. The shirt Dean had on was one of his favourites – an old AC/DC band shirt.

" For all our sakes, go upstairs in to something else. You're starting to stink up the place!" John looked conspirationly at Sam, making him laugh harder.

" Dad! Shut up, I don't smell!" Deans Face began to turn slightly pink with embarrassment.

"Seriously Dean, you smell worse than that homeless guy that lives down the alley way." Sam Said with a Smile.

"Fine. Untwist your panties on Samantha."

Dean quickly made his way up the stairs. He knew he had maybe been wearing the shirt for a little too long, but Dean Winchester didn't smell. He was too awesome for that.

Making his way over to his duffel, he removed the old t-shirt and riffled through his bag for a clean one. Suddenly, his fingers caught something hard and cold. Pulling it out, he found an old sock of his stretched out over his precious hunting knife.

Damn. Sammy was right, it has been in his duffel the whole time. After they had brought Sam back from his little forest adventure, Dean hadn't really thought about the knife. He still had his suspicions, but didn't want to bring it up with Sam, not wanting to upset his little brother.

He remembered now. Before they moved from their last place, Dean had decided that the knife could stay in his duffel bag, protected by the sock until they got to their new town. He Knew he had been paranoid about his nightmares, but he needed to get a grip. Even so, he knew that as soon as they got to the new town, he would take it out and hide it somewhere on him again.

Somehow, in the chaos of getting all of the weapons they carried situated in the house and laying down salt lines, he had forgotten that it was not in its usual place, in the small zip up side pocket on his duffel.

Great. He had not only given his little brother a concussion, but it was because of his own stupidity that it happened. If it was possible, he now felt worse about the whole event than he did before.

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a clean black shirt and pulled it on quickly, knowing that he had to go down an explain (not to mention apologise) to Sam. Even if it was for what felt like the hundredth time this week.

Taking the knife with him, Dean made his way down the stairs towards the dining room that his brother was sitting at.

As he reached the dining room, he held the knife in both hands in front of him hoping his brother wouldn't hate him to much more.

Walking into the room, he made a small coughing noise.

"Finally, you decided to grace us with your presence again Dean?" Sam joked before turning around to look at his older brother.

"Dean... is that what I think it is?"

"Uhhh... yeah. I kinda found it." Dean couldn't meet his brother's eye.

"Are you telling me that after all this, You just found it?" John could barely believe it. He'd always thought Dean had been observant, thinking that the knife must be either lost forever, or in some deep dark hidden place that would be difficult to find.

"Where was it Dean?"

"Sammy, I'm sorry. It was in my duffel." Dean looked up to Sam, trying to gauge his reaction. "I Guess I just panicked. I thought it was gone, and I was just upset, I..."

"Dean, Shhh." Sam interrupted Dean. "Honestly, it's ok. I'm not angry with you."

"Seriously? Well, you should be. I basically beat you up because I forgot where I put it!" Dean couldn't understand it. Sam should be pissed at him, not trying to make him feel better.

"Dude, really? You can't be that calm! Come on, Just... Just punch me! Yeah, go on, punch me! I won't even stop you!"

"What? I'm not going to punch you Dean. It's not your fault, it could have happened to anyone."

John had to admit, he wasn't that surprised by Deans request. He had always been the type of man who thought that physical confrontation was one of the best ways to get things done. Whether that's handling a guy in a bar, or fixing things with his brother. John also knew that Sam was the type of man who would never accept the offer.

Even in a world full of anger and violence, his youngest son managed to maintain a kindness that John Knew he could only have gotten from his mother. Even if Sam didn't know it, this characteristic that he so frequently displayed is one of the many reasons why John loves Sam so much. John likes to think of Sam as the light house for himself and Dean, Guiding them back to safety and giving them hope.

"You have to do something. You don't get it, no matter how many times you say you don't blame me, I do! Just do something, I can't take it anymore Sammy."

Sam really looked at his brother then. Not just glanced, but really truly looked at him. It was then that he noticed the dark circles under his eyes and his hunched over stance. He didn't know that Dean felt this guilty about everything that happened. Sam had forgiven Dean almost immediately after it happened, but now he was starting to see that it would take a little more for dean to forgive himself.

"I'm not gonna hit you Dean." Sam stopped to think for a while, It only taking seconds for him to come up with the perfect way to help Dean, and maybe get a little perk for himself. "I guess, there is one thing you could do for me. Then you wouldn't have to feel guilty."

"Anything you want Sammy. Just say the word."

Pausing for effect, Sam knew exactly what to ask for. He couldn't wait to see Dean's reaction.

" Well... How about you let me drive the impala later?"

Dean was stunned. His Dad had only given it to Dean to drive less than 2 years ago, and that was only when John wasn't around.

Now, his little bitch of a brother wants a go? He's 14 for Gods sake.

" No way in hell. Pick something else."

" Dean, You said he could have anything he wanted. You're not going to go back on your word, are you son?"

Sam smiled. There was no way Dean was going to get out of this one.

" But... he's not even old enough to have a license yet!"

This was the last thing Dean could think of to get out of it, even if he knew it had a snowballs chance in hell of working.

"And how old were you when you first drove Dean? 13, maybe 14?" John wasn't letting Dean back out of this one. He had made a promise to Sam, and he would keep it.

"That's different! Come on Dad!"

"No way Dean. Take it like a man and just agree already."

" What the hell... Fine! You can drive the God damn car."

" Yes!" Sam couldn't keep the trademark Sammy smile from his face.

Dean wasn't happy about any of this. Sure, he expected this from Sam, but he didn't expect his Dad to gang up on him as well. Even so, seeing that enormous smile on his little brothers face, it was almost worth it for Sammy to be happy. Sam had always been someone who didn't try to hide his emotions, and both Dean and his father had become pretty close to perfect when reading Sams facial expressions. The pure innocence and excitement in the youngest Winchesters face was enough for Dean to give in, even if it meant trusting his idiot little brother with his baby.

"Don't get ahead of yourself kiddo. I've got a few ground rules before I even let you near her."

" And what exactly would these ground rules be Dean?"

Sam knew Dean was protective of the Impala, and could only hope Dean wasn't going to nag him like an old lady the whole time he was driving.

"This is going to take a while Sammy. May want to get comfortable! I'm not letting you drive anywhere before I know that you're not going to damage the car. Or kill yourself in the process."

"Gee thanks Dean, Good to know where your priorities are."

"Shut up Bitch."

"Jerk."


End file.
